White Heat
by Artful Doodler
Summary: When Tasha's lover suddenly dies, she throws the blame on his partner, Bucky. But then one night, something happens that changes both of their lives...


I woke in the middle of the night to the totally delightful sensation of Steve's naked body sliding up mine, his rock-hard cock nestled between the lips of my pussy. His warm lips nibbled at that special spot on my neck just below my left ear. That never failed to infuse my entire body with heat and need for him.

"Oh, Steve…" I wrap my arms around his neck, rubbing my mound against his throbbing dick.

"Yeah, love?" His deep voice held a question.

He never took my acquiescence for granted, even after twelve years of marriage. Even when I was clinging to his neck, a trembling mass of need for his thick, long and bulbous cock.

"Yes," I pleaded, lovingly massaging the hard muscles of his rump. "Oh, yes, lover. Yes."

"Yeah, Tasha, love." He settled his hips firmly on mine; slowly sliding that big head of his dick into my waiting, wet body. I shuddered and nearly came. There was nothing in the world half as exquisite as the first electric touch of his big cock. Moaning in anticipation of the pleasure I knew was coming, I thrust my hips upward, greedily enveloping his sweet meat in my clenching body. I knew he loved to have me wrap my legs around his waist and undulate my body against his like a wave breaking against the shore as he pumped his hard, pulsating length deep inside my quivering pussy.

Sex that night was particularly hot and explosive. I lost track of how many times we pushed and pumped and pounded each other into sweet, searing bliss. He came in me again and again. When we finally parted, I felt his sticky cum leak out of my sated pussy and drip down my thigh.

"Damn, love, that was good!"

"It was _de-licious_ , Detective Rogers," I countered.

He was gone when I woke the next morning. I sat up and looked at my night table. When Steve left for work before I woke, he often left a note.

"Last night was incredible, love. Keep that tight wet pussy of yours ready for me."

Smiling, I sank back against the pillow and continued reading. "Bucky and I will be part of an undercover sting, so I probably won't see you until tomorrow. But don't worry, Bucky's got my back. Love you, darling. Steve."

I lay there smiling as I remembered our early morning lovemaking, until I heard Alexi's bedroom door open. "Mom! Mom, are you awake?" Alexi was a healthy ten-year-old with an excellent pair of lungs.

I glance at my bedside clock and groaned. It was barely seven o'clock. Steve and I almost needed a crane to get Alexi out of bed at seven on school mornings.

"Be there in a sec," I called and scrambled out of bed. Later that morning when Alexi was heading out to the Poconos on a trip with his Scout troop, I was in the living room ironing with the radio tuned to the local news station when I heard the beeping sound that signalled a special bulletin.

"This just in," the newscaster announced. "A police officer was seriously wounded this afternoon in a shootout in the East Park section of the city. The officer's name is being withheld until his next of kin can be notified."

With a pounding heart, I set the iron down and looked around for the cordless phone. It was on the sideboard. During the ten years Steve had been on the force, we'd developed a system. Whenever he heard about a police officer getting hurt or killed, with he or Bucky would call me ASAP to let me know they were okay. They'd never taken more than an hour to call, even when they were on a stakeout.

Two hours later, as I was getting really scared, the doorbell rang. He'd come instead of calling. "Thank you, Lord," I whispered and ran through the house and threw open the door. "Steve! I –"

But it was Steve's partner, Bucky Barnes. One look at his pale face and I started shaking. "Bucky! I heard about the shooting. Steve was shot, wasn't he?"

He swallowed several times and nodded.

I grabbed his shirt. "Oh, God, Bucky! How bad is he? What hospital have they taken him to?"

"Honey, I –"

I looked past him and saw his car, a dark sedan, parked haphazardly at the curb.

"I'll just get my purse and we can go to him. Please, God, let him be okay."

Feeling more afraid than I'd ever felt before, I started away. I'd only reached the living room door before Bucky grabbed me and turned me to face him. "Honey, I don't know how to tell you this, but –"

I tried to pull away. "Bucky, we can talk later! I just need to get to him now."

His grip on my arms tightened and part of me died as I saw the tears welling in his eyes. "Honey, honey he didn't make it."

"What!"

"I'm sorry, but he… he died at the scene."

"No! You liar!" I tore myself away from him and began hitting his face with his fists. "You lying bastard! He's not dead! He can't be! He said you had his back! Why are you still alive when he's dead? Why are you still alive? You bastard!"

He made no effort to stop me from hitting him and I continued pummelling his face until I collapsed, sobbing hysterically. Then he was on his knees beside me, crying with me and trying to hold me in his arms.

"Take your arms off me!" I screamed. "How could you let him get killed? Where were you when he needed you?"

He stared at me, tears mixing with the blood I'd drawn on his face. "Honey, honey, please –"

"Don't you 'honey' me! Don't ever call me that again! You get out! I never want to see you again!"

"You don't mean that! You can't mean that!"

"I do! I do! Get out! Now!"

The following days passed in a blur. The house was filled with family, friends, and police officers offering condolences and just sitting with me and Alexi. I couldn't feel anything. I'd seen Steve's body, but I couldn't accept that he really was dead until I saw Bucky again. Then it all came back. I felt a wave of hate wash over me that he was alive while my lover was dead.

"Get out of here!"

He spread his hands helplessly. "Honey, please, I would have died to save him. You know that!"

"Then why aren't you dead, too?"

I heard the gasps of others gathered and knew they were shocked, but I couldn't help hating the sight of Bucky.

"Tasha, babe, you don't mean that." My best friend, Clint Barton, squeezed my shoulders and looked at Bucky. "She's upset. She doesn't mean –"

"I do mean it!" I pulled away from Clint and stormed over to stare up at Bucky.

His face still bore the traces of bruising from where I battered him. I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from clawing my nails down his face. "Get out and don't come back! Alexi and I don't ever want to see you again."

"Mom! Alexi grabbed my hand in protest. "Mom, we need Uncle Bucky."

"He's not your uncle, Alexi. He's the man who let your father get killed!"

Bucky blanched, then turned and walked out of the house. I didn't see him again until the funeral. I allowed him to be a pallbearer because I knew that's what Steve would have wanted, but I refused to allow him to come back to the house afterward.

The months following Steve's funeral were horrible. I fell asleep every night reliving our last night together. I savoured the memory of the feel of his thick, heated cock repeatedly torpedoing into my slick, pulsing pussy, sending delicious chills and shivers of bliss and lust through every nerve ending in my body. Knowing I'd ever experience that joy again was almost more than I could bear.

Bucky called often, but I couldn't talk to him.

"T, you know that man would have died for Steve," my other best friend, Maria Hill, said one night after I'd again refused to take Bucky's call."

"Because of that man, my Steve is dead!" I said bitterly.

"You know Steve trusted him with his life."

"And look where it got him! I don't want him anywhere near me or Alexi ever again."

She gave me an angry pat. "Oh, so it's all about what _you_ want. Well, what about what Alexi wants and needs?"

"Alexi doesn't want to see him either."

"Tasha, you are talking foolish and you know it. You know how Alexi feels about him and you know how Steve felt about him. I'm not going to sit here and listen to this. You know in your heart that if there was anything that man could have done to save Steve, he would have. Or have you conveniently forgotten that he got shot three years ago because he jumped in front of a bullet meant for Steve."

"So what? It was just a scratch."

"He was in the hospital a week!"

I stared at her with angry tears streaming down my cheeks. "Fine! But this time he let him get killed!"

"T, get a grip! Remember he and Steve were friends since high school. How do you think he's feeling?"

I knew she was right, but I needed someone to hate. And at five-nine and roughly 260 pounds, Bucky made a nice-sized target. "So?"

She hugged me. "So? You know you and Alexi are all he has. He needs to be with you."

I shook my head. "No."

"Yes." She gripped my hands. "You've kept him away for over four months. You think that's what Steve would have wanted?"

That shook me because I knew it wasn't. Steve had often told me that Bucky was like the brother he'd never had. "I don't know."

"Tash, do the right thing." Maria sighed, shaking her head. "If you'd talk to him just now, you would have heard how… I'm afraid for him. Call him to make sure he's all right."

"So now I'm supposed to be his keeper?"

"No. Just a friend. As he's been yours and Steve's for years. Don't you think he needs a friend?"

"He has other friends."

"None as close as you and Steve. You know that. Tash, the man sounded as if… you'd better call him. Tonight. Now."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't know what to say to him. The breach between us is too wide now."

"Narrow it. Go see him."

I thought of the things I'd said to him. Things I couldn't take back. Things I didn't want to take back. "I couldn't leave Alexi alone."

"Alone? So I'm nobody now?" She pulled me up from the sofa. "Go see him. Stay the night if you have to. I'll stay with Alexi."

Bucky had a small rancher on the other side of town. I knew he was home when I arrived because his car was in the driveway and his house lights were on. But he didn't respond to the bell.

I wanted to go home, but deep in my heart, I knew I'd treated him badly. And I did miss him. During the past six years, he'd had dinner with us at least twice a week. He'd stood in for Steve at any father-son event with Alexi that Steve couldn't make. He'd sent me a dozen red roses on my birthday and sometimes for no reason at all. And he's always provided a shoulder to cry on whenever Steve and I were fighting.

In fact, I'd once told Steve that when I needed to hear an endearment, I went to Bucky. Steve's idea of an endearment had been to call me "love" in that deep, honeyed voice of his that I'd love so much. Steve had often joked that Bucky called me "honey" so often; he must think it's my name.

I rang the bell again. When he still didn't answer the door, I walked around the house and peeked in the window of his living room and nearly screamed. Bucky was sprawled in a recliner with his gun in his hand, pointing towards his body.

With a pounding heart, I ran back around to the front of the house, digging in my handbag for the key to his front door. I was shaking so hard, I couldn't get the key in the lock. "God, please! Help me!" I prayed, then stepped back from the door and took several deep breaths. When my hand was steadier, I opened the door and ran down the hall to the living room.

"Bucky! Oh, God, Bucky, what are you doing?!"

He didn't answer, but lifted the gun higher.

"No!" I screamed and ran across the room to his chair. "No!" I grabbed his arm and tried to wrestle the gun away.

He resisted and lifted his free hand to push me away. I stumbled back and nearly lost my balance. "Bucky! Bucky, what are you doing?"

When he turned to look at me, the anguished look in his eyes made me realize how badly I'd hurt him. He's loved Steve like a brother and I'd treated him like dirt and kicked him to the curb and beat him down. Maria had been right. He needed comforting, too. "Bucky… what are you doing?"

"Cleaning my gun."

I'd never heard him sound so miserable and defeated. I glanced wildly around. I saw none of the paraphernalia I knew was necessary for gun cleaning. "Bucky…" I bit my lip and inched forward. "What are you doing?"

He pointed a finger at me. "I'm thinking of taking care of your little problem."

"What… what problem?"

He shrugged and took a deep sobbing breath that made me ache for him. "Of my being alive when Steve is dead."

My eyes filled with tears and terror filled me as I realized that I'd driven him to the brink of despair. "No! No! I didn't mean that, Bucky!"

He shook a fist at me. "Oh, yes you did! Don't you stand there lying to me! We both know you meant it! You want me dead! Well, damn you, if that's what it takes to get your forgiveness, I'll give you what you want!"

"No! No!" I stumbled over to the chair, grabbing his arm. "No! You selfish bastard! You put that gun down! How much grief do you think Alexi and I can bear? We can't lose you, too! You put that gun down now!"

He pushed me away again and I scrambled to my knees, fear clutching my heart. When I realized how close he was to shooting himself, I think that's the first time I realized how much he meant to me. How much emptier I'd feel if he were dead.

"No! No! God, Bucky, no! No! Oh, God, don't!"

He stared at me, his eyes filling with tears. "Damn you, Tasha! How could you shut me out of your life? How could you think for a single moment that I wouldn't have died to protect Steve? You think I would have allowed anyone to take him from you and Alexi if I could have prevented it? I tried, damn it, but I couldn't reach him in time! It happened so fast. I heard the shot and when I got there… he was lying on the ground. When I picked him up and knew he was dead, part of me died, too!"

He put his free hand over his face and sobs shook his body. I was used to Bucky being strong. Strong for Steve, strong for me, and strong for Alexi. To see him sobbing like that was more than I could stand.

"Don't! Please!" I rushed to him and wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry, Bucky! So sorry!" I reached for the gun and this time he allowed me to remove it from his hand. I put the safety on, placed it on the table out of his reach, and wrapped my arms around him. "Oh, Bucky! Bucky, I'm so sorry for hurting you."

His arms went around me and he buried his face against my breasts. "Oh, God, I can't stand the pain anymore! I failed you and Alexi. I let Steve get killed!"

No! No!" I pulled away and cupped his face in my hands. "No! You didn't fail us. You never failed us! It wasn't your fault, Bucky! I know that. Part of me has always known that. I was just hurting so badly… I needed someone to blame."

He stared up at me. "I feel empty. I have nothing and no-one."

"That's not true." I stroked his damp cheeks. "You have me and Alexi. We need you, Bucky."

"I would have died to protect him. If I could, I would have taken that bullet. I just couldn't get there in time."

"I know that. I always have." I stroked my fingers through his dark, silky hair. It was longer than he usually wore it and he looked as if he hadn't shaved in days. I sighed. "I'm just so… sorry I made this so much harder for you. Forgive me, Bucky."

He stared up at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm the one who needs to be forgiven." He pulled me down onto his lap and pressed his cheek against mine. "I thought I'd die when you wouldn't let me be there for you and Alexi. I need to be with you both." His arms tightened around my waist. "Oh, honey, I've missed you!"

"We've missed you too, Bucky!" When I turned to face him, he leaned forward and devoured my lips with his mouth. At the contact, a series of electric charges sizzled through my body, making my pussy clench and throb.

It wasn't the first time he'd kissed me on the mouth. When Bucky's parents had been in a plane crash two years earlier, he'd been so distraught that Steve had asked me to spend the weekend with him. "He needs a woman's touch, and right now, love, you're the only woman in his life."

The first night, I'd held him in my arms, kissing his hair and rocking him. When he lifted his head, his blue eyes wide, looking like a little lost boy, I'd done what I did when Alexi looked like that: I leaned down and kissed him gently. He'd responded by kissing me back. And although I'd been vaguely aware that he was slightly aroused, he'd made no move on me.

So it was strange to feel the rush of desire that surged through me when he kissed me now. Maybe it was sitting in his lap while he held on to me like he'd never let me go again. Or maybe I'd missed him so much. I don't know. I just know one moment, I wanted to comfort him, the next, I'd wrapped my arms around his neck and I was eagerly returning his kiss, conscious of a mounting need to feel his cock inside me.

His lips were warm and sweet against mine. He kissed me slowly, as if savouring the taste and feel of my mouth. With a gentle tenderness that took my breath away, he encouraged me to part my lips. When I did, I felt his tongue, warm and moist, searching for mine.

I leaned into him and he deepened the kiss. Within moments, I could feel him hardening under my buns. When I felt his big hands brushing against my breasts, I shivered and dragged my mouth away from his. I pressed my face against his shoulder, aware I'd already reached the point where I was ready to slam my pussy down onto his hard dick.

Just as Steve always did, he lifted my face and looked up at me, asking for permission to continue. "Honey…?"

My mind screamed that I needed to stop this now, but I felt limp and needy. I wanted; I needed to be made love to. I needed to feel a cock inside my aching, empty pussy. And who better to fill that need than Bucky, the man who'd always been sweet and gentle and who'd called me "honey" from day one?

"Yes," I whispered and lowered my face for his kiss.

He lifted me in his arms and carried me upstairs to his bedroom. Once there, he undressed me slowly, kissing each part of my pale body he exposed. He lingered a long time over my breasts, sucking and licking me until I felt my pussy dripping and my body shaking with cock lust.

When he undressed, a fresh surge of dampness oozed from my body as I stared at him. He had an absolutely beautiful body with board shoulders, flat abs, narrow hips, and a surprisingly large cock with a thick, pink head. He slipped between my parted thighs, rubbed his dick against my pussy, against my clit, and then finally, slowly, he pushed the enormous head into my aching, hungry twat. It had been so long and I was so horny that I moaned, shuddered, and came when he bottomed out in me.

"Oh! Oh, God! Bucky! Bucky! Please! Oh, more! More!"

The feel of his big dick moving inside me in slow, measured strokes was mind-numbing. As I lay on my back, I lifted my head and looked down our bodies. The sight of his pale, thick cock sinking balls deep into my pussy was enough to send me on the brink of another orgasm. I fell back against the bed, pushing my hips up to meet his downwards thrusts, loving the feel of his hot meat cleaving through my wet twat.

"Please! Bucky, please. I'm almost there again. Please!"

He suddenly cupped my bottom in his big hands, lifted my hips, and ground his down against mine. Then he thrust his hard length deep in me at the same time his hot devouring mouth found that sensitive spot below my left ear.

I moaned and shuddered and sobbed with delight and shattered into a million pieces as my body was flooded with delicious wave after wave of blistering pleasure. He stopped to soothe me before following me over the edge into pure paradise, pumping my unprotected pussy full of cum.

Afterward, he held in his arms, kissing me gently, and cupping my breasts in his warm, caressing palms. I loved having my breasts held and my nipples tweaked. And I liked to be talked to after sex.

"Honey? Are you all right?"

I felt safe, loved, and happy. I rubbed my body against his and smiled when he shuddered in response. "I'm… fine."

He pressed a tender kiss against my forehead. "Did I… please you, honey?"

"Yes. Oh, yes, Bucky! Yes!"

He sighed and hugged me against him. I feel asleep feeling warm and content for the first time since Steve's death.

He woke me in the night, wanting me again. "Honey?"

I felt him hard and throbbing against my leg and a jolt of desire shot through me. I turned willingly into his arms and moaned when he slid into me with a slow steady movement that left me gasping and wanting him.

"Oh, honey, you're so sweet." He rained soft, heated kisses on my breasts. His hot hands were everywhere: stroking my breasts, my thighs, cupping and massaging my rump, rubbing my clit.

My body burned everywhere he touched it. I found myself wanting him as much as I'd wanted Steve. "Bucky…" I gasped. "Bucky… oh, Bucky!"

"Honey, you feel so good. You smell so good. I need this. I need you. Oh, honey. Honey."

His whispered words of delight fuelled my passion and hunger for him. I clung to him and we kept at each other until, exhausted and sexually sated, we fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs, his slowly deflating dick in my pussy.

By the morning, I couldn't believe what I'd done. Steve was barely cold in his grave and there I was jumping into bed with his partner.

"Honey… about last night… I don't want you to think that I… I…" He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked at me with a helpless look in his eyes.

I stared at him, wondering why I'd never noticed how blue his eyes were or how handsome he was. I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn't feel. Having him call me honey reminded me of the night before, when he'd groaned the word in my ear as he'd repeatedly plunged into me like an out-of-control jackhammer. And I'd happily accepted and welcomed him in my arms and deep into my body.

xxoOoxx

"Last night was something we both needed," I said as we shared coffee in the kitchen the next morning. "It was… therapeutic. We don't need to apologize for it or analyse it to death. We needed it and it happened."

He sighed, leaning against the counter. "Honey…"

I put down my coffee cup and went over to him. I leaned up and kissed his cheek. "It's all right, Bucky." I drew back and looked at him, amazed I could look him in the eye. That last time we'd made love, I'd responded to him like an alley cat in heat, demanding that he fuck me. And he had, driving me into a frenzy until my whole world centred around his conquering cock.

"Just promise me that you won't clean your gun like you were going to do last night."

He sighed. "There didn't seem to be much point to anything. Steve was dead and you'd tossed me out of your life."

"And now?"

He licked his lips. My stomach muscles tightened as I recalled how pleasant his lips had felt sucking my breasts. Why had I never noticed how full and sensual his bottom lip was? Come to that, how had I never noticed how sexy he was or what a big cock he was packing?

"Honey… I don't know how to say this."

I shrugged. "Just say it."

"Last night was very special for me. I've been… wanting you for a very long time."

I stared at him. "What? You've wanted… but… you were Steve's best friend! He trusted you with me!"

He flushed. "And I never stepped out of line with you. Never! I never let you see how I felt, but Steve knew."

"I don't believe you! If he'd known, he wouldn't have let you anywhere near me!"

He shook his head. "He did know, but he also knew I would never act on those feelings. Not only because we were best friends, but because I'd never do anything to hurt you."

I thought of all the times Bucky had greeted me by locking me in a bear hug and felt betrayed. When I thought he was being friendly, he'd wanted to sleep with me. And now that Steve was dead, he thought I was going to be his woman? Just for a moment, I wondered if he'd allowed Steve to be shot so he could have me, but quickly dismissed the thought. No matter how he felt about me, he'd loved Steve.

"I can't handle this, Bucky. Last night is not going to happen again. If you need sex, you'd better –"

"I don't need sex. I want _you_. I _love_ you."

I backed away from him. "Well, I don't love you." I remembered the gun in his hand the night before and rushed on. "I do love you, Bucky. You know I do. Just not like _that_. But Alexi and I miss you and need you back in our lives. As my friend."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Just a friend, honey?"

I nodded. "We both needed last night, but I don't need or want you as a lover, Bucky."

He sighed and sagged back against the counter. "Fine. I'll be your… friend, Tasha."

I nodded. "Come see Alexi soon."

He came the following night. When Alexi rushed at him and burst into tears, I felt awful for having kept them apart for so long. Bucky and I avoided looking at each other and only spoke to each other when necessary. But after three weeks, it became easier to be in the same room with Bucky and behave as if we'd never spent a lustful night together. Until…

…I started having erotic dreams about him. I'd want him in the middle of the day. And when he came to see Alexi, I began visualizing him naked, aroused, and wanting me. It got so bad I could barely look at him without feeling a rush of dampness between my thighs.

He never alluded to our night together that he'd stopped calling me honey. And I missed that. After six weeks, I wanted him so badly, I didn't care what people would say about my sleeping with Steve's ex-partner.

He'd said he loved me and I wasn't so sure anymore that I didn't love him in the same way. I was certainly consumed with desire for him and his big, thick cock.

One Friday night, I sent Alexi to spend the weekend with Clint. I chilled some wine and asked Bucky to come over. The look in his eyes when I opened the door wearing nothing but a red teddy and matching heels made me ache for him.

"Oh, honey," he whispered and drew me into his arms. There, in the doorway, we kissed with wild abandonment, uncaring of what the neighbours would say. Within moments, he was aroused and I was ready for him. He lifted me in his arms and carried me upstairs.

Holding me in his arms over my bed, he hesitated. I saw a look of concern in his eyes. "Here, honey? Are you sure?"

I didn't know how I was going to feel in the morning about sleeping with Bucky in the same bed I'd shared with Steve. I didn't know what the future held for me and Bucky; or even if we had a future together. But I didn't care. I just wanted him. I'd loved Steve with all my heart and soul. But he'd been dead for nearly six months. I was alive. I had needs and wants and they all centred around Bucky and his cock. I meant to spend the entire night with him buried to the hilt in my pussy, while I shuddered under him like a shameless hussy.

"Yes," I whispered.

He laid me gently on the bed and settled his big body between my trembling thighs. "Oh, honey, I need to be inside your sweet, sweet pussy."

"Funny you should mention that," I murmured, reaching down to part the lips of my twat for him. "Because I've been dreaming about that big, pussy-pleasing dick of yours. I need it inside me. Now, Bucky! Now. Shove it in! Shove it in!"

Cupping my breasts in trembling hands, he kissed me and thrust into me with a maddening slowness that made my toes curls. I closed my eyes and shut the world out. Tonight there was just me and Bucky in a world filled with luscious, illicit pleasure.


End file.
